The King And All Of His Men
by The Brat Prince
Summary: Everything didn't click jigsaw-puzzle-perfect. James/Logan, super-angst, super Kendall-centric, unrequited Kendall/James and Kendall/Logan, Katie's POV.


**The King And All Of His Men**

By: Jondy Macmillan

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Katie's heard this story more times than she can count, but that doesn't stop her from listening in. She peeks around the side of a tree, bark rough on her palms, sneakers digging into the dirt. It's close enough to the fire pit that she doesn't have trouble hearing above the howl of the wind and the crackle of flames, the rowdy laughter of her brother and his friends. Far enough that she can hide beneath the cloak of darkness, grandma's afghan tucked around her shoulders for warmth.

It's an unseasonably cool night for August in Southern California. At least, that's what she's heard. Maybe if this whole band thing works out, she'll see another August on the West Coast, and another, and then she'll be able to compare. She hopes so. She likes it out here.

Most nights, Katie's too tough to demand lullabies from her big brother anymore, but she's had that dream again. The one where a shadowy figure picks her up, rocks her beneath the stars, whispers soothing things in her ear. She never sees his face, has never wanted to look. She knows it's her dad, wants so badly to know for sure. But she's terrified. Will he look like he does in the pictures she keeps in a shoebox beneath her bed? A warm smile, the scar above his left eyebrow, eyes just like Kendall's? Or will he be a grinning skeleton, straight from a Halloween movie? Will she smell burned flesh, blistered skin?

He wasn't a good man.

That's what her mom says. He barely stuck around long enough to give Katie life, too busy committing petty larceny to take care of his son, to notice his wife was nearly eight months pregnant with a daughter he'd never met.

Too busy to understand that graduating to grand theft auto was a bad idea.

Sometimes Katie wonders if he got it when he skidded into the rails on that winding mountain road. If he had one last flicker of regret before the engine caught fire and he burned.

Did he realize how badly he'd fucked up then?

Oops. She's not supposed to know that word. But that's what Kendall always says. That their dad _fucked _up.

Kendall doesn't hate him, though. Not like their mom does. Mostly, when he talks about their father, he just sounds sad.

Mom, though, she talks about the man like he was the anti-Christ. Sometimes, Katie wants to ask. If he was so horrible, she wants to know, why did her mom keep him around for over ten years? Why did she marry him? Why'd she stick it out long past the honeymoon, long enough to have two kids? Kendall says before they heard the news, mom waited. Waited, waited, waited for her husband to come back during the three days it took to identify the body. He says she didn't hate him then. From his perspective, it looked a lot like love.

Katie thinks about all of this, every time she has the dream. Her mind whirs and spins like a top, and the only thing that ever slows it down is her brother's voice, silly songs he made up for her over the course of countless nightmares.

So tonight, when she woke up, sweat-drenched and scared, she went to find him. He wasn't in his room. Neither was Carlos, Logan, or James. Those four were always together, more a unit than a singular entity. It had taken nearly half an hour of searching, but she found them out here, Kendall and Katie's surrogate big brothers, in front of a bonfire in the Palmwoods park, all their new friends gathered tight around them.

Kendall's always easy to find in large groups. He's _always_ at their center. Even among his best friends, he burns like a star. Katie's not sure how that happened; she doesn't have that kind of magnetism, the charisma that leaks from Kendall's pores. She's mostly a recluse, a pariah amongst everyone her own age.

She's okay with that. She doesn't want a best friend. She's _learned_ from the guys.

The problem with making one person the center of your universe is that your universe became a very small place. Everything orbits around that person, that smile, those eyes. She's not sure she could handle feeling that way about someone, or having someone feel that way about her.

She's only ten, after all.

Kendall's sitting on a manmade log in front of the fire like a king, lording over his court. He's got a beer in one hand, tab popped, golden liquid sloshing. It's a glimpse of adulthood that Katie's not supposed to see. It feels illegal, forbidden. If she wasn't so shaken from the dream, she'd consider blackmailing him with it. As it is, she just wants to rest, to be a part of this flickering landscape of fire and laughter and her brother's hypnotic voice.

Jo's pressed into his right side, Logan at his left, head inclined close. James is on the ground, cheek resting against Kendall's knee. Firelight catches his hair like a halo, plays shadows over his face. Carlos is lying down, legs over James's lap, eyes glued to Kendall.

They love him. All of them. Katie can see it, in the way they watch his every movement, the way they completely adore him. Its worse for James and Logan than it is for Carlos, whose love is fraternal, normal, even if it does go a little deeper than most bromances.

The other two, though. Katie's known them both her whole life, and she can see the jealousy on their faces every time Jo nuzzles Kendall's neck. He's oblivious to it, so accustomed to their hopeless devotion that he thinks it's normal. James, sweet and earnest and a little rough around the edges. Ready to fight if he needs to because he's never had much of a choice, but more ready to commit to something; a future, a boy who doesn't want him. And Logan, too smart for his own good, so indecisive about everything but his steadfast loyalty to Katie's big brother. He's the most intelligent guy Katie knows, but he was still stupid enough to fall in love. They both were.

It'll never get them anywhere. Everyone's watching Kendall, completely entranced as he tells the story, but he only has eyes for Jo. Pathetic.

The story though, that Katie likes. It's almost as good as a lullaby, familiar and comforting.

It's the story of how they all met.

A common misconception is that the guys have all known each other forever. They get along _so well_, they act like brothers from another mother. Blah. Blah. Blah. Katie knows the _truth_, the very thing Kendall's explaining right this second.

When they came together, it wasn't like the big bang, something visceral created out of nothing at all. A slow steady process, like the creation of the cosmos. Everything didn't click jigsaw-puzzle-perfect. Angels weren't singing in the heavens.

Actually though, it was kind of like a miracle.

They just didn't know it at the time.

It happened at a lake. Which shouldn't be entirely surprising. Minnesota's like, the land of a bajillion lakes, their main claim to fame. After…everything that gone down, with their dad, Kendall had taken it hard. Two years past their father's death, and he was basically in a walking coma. Mrs. Knight had taken to doing whatever she could to cheer her son up. He liked the lake near the elementary school, the way the sunlight dappled the water, how dark and blue it got during the winter, the way he could stand on it, wobbly legged like a colt when it turned to ice. Katie was barely a toddler, but her mom still found time to drive Kendall over, let him wander and attempt to play. Mostly, he just sat and stared, ran his fingers through the chilly water long enough that they'd go numb. Freezing, he thought, maybe felt a little like burning.

He was the most sullen eight year old in the whole wide world.

The way he tells it, to Jo and Camille, Guitar Dude and the Jennifers, is that the lake was iced over. He walked out, testing the limits, hoarfrost coating his boots. Their mom wasn't watching, occupied with coercing Katie to eat. He walked out and out until he walked too far, spider web cracks breaking up the solid winter wonderland into a slow moving floe. And Kendall fell right into the freezing cold water.

Their mom heard the terrifying gunshot noise of ice dividing, but she didn't drop Katie. Something she liked to point out with every retelling she was present for. She could only watch in horror as three boys raced across the surface, none of them much older than Kendall himself.

Together, they caught hold of him right before he disappeared completely. With their combined strength, they managed to haul him up, to safety.

It was an act of unbelievable heroism. Made the papers and everything.

Katie has the story memorized. She's heard it so many times that it's morphed, been mythologized in her mind. It's turned into something that she knows is real, but has somehow been proselytized to a dream, translated into fantasy through so many retellings.

They all tell it different.

Kendall is all about the falling, how he hadn't been thinking anything in particular, how his stomach had jumped into his throat and he hadn't been able to catch his breath, how the cold was so drastic that it really did feel kind of like burning. He doesn't tell their new friends about the split second he considered not swimming, the one moment in his entire life where Kendall Knight didn't put up a fight. That day changed him, made him into the fearless, stubborn big brother Katie knows and loves. But he won't tell that part to near-strangers.

He also doesn't mention much about his friends, other than that they saved his life, and he's been loyal to them ever since.

Katie knows the whole thing, all the angles, all the ways it changes, and what it all means.

Carlos, for instance, had been at the lake on a family picnic. His dad's a beat cop, his mom's some big, high profile project manager for a company Katie doesn't know much about. He's their only kid, and they spoil him rotten. That day, they were eating PB and Js, and Carlos was telling them about the macaroni art he made at school, and how excited he was for fourth grade, still months away. When his parents got distracted, discussing something boring, he saw the blond kid out on the ice. Even then, Carlos was friendly. He really only headed over to say hi.

James had run away. He was miserable at home, with his new stepmother and her ridiculous, shiny vases that he wasn't allowed to touch. His whole house felt like a museum. At the time, he was a rough kid, more used to tumbling around playgrounds than standing without slouching and using proper manners. He hated his dad, a bouncer at a local nightclub, for remarrying the blonde bimbo real estate agent who was selling the place, costing him his job. James thought they were totally forsaking the memory of his sweet, homespun mother, so sweet and homespun that she'd run away with one of bartenders at his dad's club. He hated his life for being a huge cliché, even though at the time, he hadn't really known what that meant. Eventually, he'd bond with his stepmom when she'd encourage him to take up singing, repair his relationship with his dad when they discovered a mutual bond in music. Back then, though, he'd been sitting on the banks of the lake, trying to figure out his next course of action, and whether he'd packed enough Lunchables to last the week. That's when he saw Kendall, looking every bit as wretched as he felt.

And then there was Logan, whose parents had rented a cabin nearby. He's the son of a man who runs the coolest, creepiest ghost tours in their town, of a woman who spends her days writing erotica. Katie still isn't sure what that entails. She googled it once, but the pictures had been super gross. All Logan wanted was to go to science camp at the local university that summer. They wanted him to take art. The argument for science would one day morph into his motivation for being a doctor. But he spent that day arguing with them, whining, trying his hardest to get his way. He'd given in when his dad tried to mollycoddle him with fraudulent ghost stories, his mom ignoring them both in favor of searching for inspiration for her newest book. He'd escaped the cabin for a breath of fresh air, and that's when he heard the ice break, saw a flash of blond.

All three of their stories ended with one thing: they had to save Kendall. They couldn't have done anything else.

And they were linked to him forever after.

Katie saw on TV once that when you save a person's life, you sort of adopt them. You want to always make sure that they're okay. She thinks that maybe that's how it started, that Carlos, Logan, and James wanted to be near Kendall. To make sure his heart still beat, steady as a bass line.

Then they got addicted.

Because Kendall, he saved them too. He gave them a purpose, a meaning, a bond. After the ice broke, it was like, he realized that life was worth living, and he'd been doing it to the fullest ever since. Pulling James, Carlos, and Logan into the spotlight with him, making sure that they were more than they'd ever been before. Better understood. Less lonely. Able to stand up for themselves. He imbued all of them with the qualities that made them shine. How could they surrender that?

Jo laughs, "Seriously? They saved you?"

"Honest to god," Kendall hugs her shoulders tightly, taking a sip of his beer. From this distance, his pupils look like mirrors, and all Katie can see is flames, "These guys are the best."

Carlos grins, wide and happy, not at all embarrassed. Logan ducks his head, shy, and James keeps his eyes closed, face blank. He probably wants to strangle Jo with her own perfect, glossy hair.

Katie thinks maybe now she's okay, now she can go back up to bed, but then Jo says, "They're the greatest guys in the whole wide world. Because of them, I can do this."

She kisses Kendall, which- disgusting, Katie so does not need to see that. But it compels Logan to reel away, nearly edging off the log. James jumps to his feet at the wet sucking sound, announcing, "I'm gonna get another beer."

"I'll come with," Logan agrees in a squeak, and now Katie can't move. They might see her, and she's not sure why that would be so terrible.

They cross over to a cooler, standing right up against a tree opposite hers, one even more secluded from the fire pit, from Kendall, Jo, and the rest.

"I hate this," Logan mumbles, all his earlier mirth vanished. He looks wrecked, like maybe Kendall stole something from him, maybe his heart, and Katie's so, so glad that she's too young to deal with things like love.

"Me. Too," James clicks his tongue and bends over the cooler, his features angry, "But it's not like there's anything we can fucking do about it."

"Jo's nice," Logan concludes.

"Yeah," James concurs, and it sounds like an insult.

"Do you- D'you think we're always going to feel like this?"

"You're the smart one. You tell me," James sounds so bitter, but his voice is soft, gentle now. Katie can make out their silhouettes, and it looks like he's touching Logan's chin.

"I hope not."

James laughs, humorlessly, "I've felt like this since he fell through the ice. I doubt it's going to change, dude."

Right there, that's the thing that Katie's always known. The reason she's wary of making new friends, tying herself to any one person. The dilemma with the purpose Kendall gave these boys, the inherent problem in the equation is that their whole reason for living for the past eight years has been..._him_. What the hell are they supposed to do without him?

"So…what do we do?"

"Nothing. He's happy," James's smile is defeated. It sucks hard, because they can't even bring themselves to hate him, not when he's given them so damn much. It's not Kendall's fault that he's easy to fall in love with, and they'd rather stick it out, live with his affection, his friendship, than lose him completely. Than be unable to count the rhythm of his pulse, to make sure that he's always, always okay and _alive_.

James inches closer to Logan in a way that makes Katie feel kind of weird, like this is something her mom would _murder _her for watching. She wants to bolt from her tree, but also to stay and observe the trainwreck, to see how they seek comfort in the only other person who understands.

It feels like a Greek tragedy come to life. Two boys, for whom her stupid, oblivious big brother is everything, and it's never enough. She doesn't get how Kendall doesn't know, or how he casually ignores it if he does. These guys had a hand in saving his life. Katie's already two years older than they were when it happened, and she can't think of anyone she'd risk drowning for.

But they did it, they saved him, and he's been a part of them ever since. Even while he ruins them.

"That's all that really matters," Logan replies, and then they're kissing, tongue and teeth and lips mashing in a way that looks bruising, painful, full of purpose. Their shapes bending, twisting, a shadow-puppet-play against the backdrop of the park.

Katie can hear her own breath, the sound of the crackling bonfire, crickets and laughter and the soft rustle of leaves as the wind dies down. It's cold, but not cold like Minnesota, like home, like an ice covered lake a thousand miles away, where four boys were linked together, forever.

One day, she thinks, maybe Kendall will see what he's doing; causing this much pain and doing nothing to stop it. It's like he's driving a car too fast on a winding mountain road, his friends in the back seat.

His men, right up until the inevitable crash.

She almost hates her big brother, for a breath. Then he laughs, calling his friends back from the cooler, his voice a lullaby, and she watches them break apart, go to Kendall with big smiles on their faces that are only a little forced. Moths to a flame. Everything's righted, the world snapped back to normal.

Katie decides that maybe she can finally go to sleep again.

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A/N: Uhhhh…so yeah, when I set out to write a fic with jogan in it, I always knew it would be kind of angsty, but I really have no idea what orifice I pulled this one out of. I honestly am kind of like…stunned that this is what this fic became. I apologize. If you all hate me now, I'll understand. If not, review!


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